03/04/81 ATE (After the End)

  “Follow close behind me, Illuminus,” Olaf commanded, his voice low but firm. He moved with a purposeful stride, his shoulders squared beneath a worn earth-toned jacket patched and frayed at the seams. His red hair, wild and untamed, clung to his head in uneven tufts that caught the faint light filtering through the crumbling ruins. Sharp blue eyes flicked over the shattered streets, scanning for threats with ruthless precision, honed by a lifetime on edge. Illuminus trailed a step behind, his movements quieter but no less deliberate. His dark brown hair fell in uneven waves across his forehead, brushing against the pale skin of his face. At twenty, he carried himself with a calm almost curious demeanour. His deep brown eyes absorbed every detail of the ruined city around them. Though younger and less worn than Olaf, he moved with a quiet strength—a discipline born of a life shaped by careful routines.

  The two walked in silence, their footsteps a faint echo through the hollow streets of Jares. Stone towers jutted up like ancient sentinels, their cracked facades whispering stories of a forgotten world. Olaf’s sharp blue eyes scanned the ruins, his stride purposeful. Illuminus followed just behind, his dark eyes absorbing every detail with quiet intensity. This was the city that once housed the ancestors of ‘The Bunker’. The weight of history seemed to hang in the air of this city, thick with the echoes of a world long forgotten.

  Olaf led Illuminus through a narrow, crumbling street with its jagged buildings looming around them. They came to a small open courtyard, an unexpected oasis amid the ruins. There, amidst the devastation, Viktor tended to his hives. The beekeeper moved with careful precision, his steady hands working among the wooden boxes as the soft hum of bees filled the air. A faint golden glow seeped through the cracks in the walls, casting light on the white wax of the beehives and the fluttering wings of the insects.

  “Ah, Olaf,” Viktor said, his voice rough yet warm. “I see you’ve brought company today.”

  “This is Illuminus, Viktor,” Olaf replied. “He’s... learning to do what I do.” Olaf replied giving a slight nod. He turned to Illuminus.

  “Illuminus, meet Viktor, the keeper of honey and wax.” Illuminus gazed over Viktor, an old man with a few missing teeth.

  “Now, Viktor,” Olaf spoke, “give Illuminus a rundown of this area and its... politics.” Viktor raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, his smile fading slightly as he cast a glance toward the distant horizon.

  “The tribes, you mean? Well, it’s a lot to take in, but here’s the short version. White Moon’s up there to the north. They’ve got a détente with the Flame Brotherhood to the east, which doesn’t sit well with the others. Makes for a lot of... tension.”

  Viktor shifted, gesturing toward the west. “The Scorpion Sting to the west tried to take on the Brotherhood a few years back. Lost a lot of men. Now they’re not as strong as they once were.” He paused, watching a bee settle on a nearby flower before continuing, his tone lowering. “The Sharp Spear to the south doesn’t do much business with anyone. They like to keep to themselves and be all spiritual like yet still are mighty warriors. You’d be hard-pressed to find a Spear outside their own land. As for the Flame Brotherhood—well, they’re the real trouble. Raiders, slavers... just real nasty pieces of work. If you’re looking to survive around here, it’s best to avoid interacting with them.”

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  Illuminus raised an eyebrow, watching Viktor closely. “So... which tribe do you lean towards, then? Are you partial to anyone?” Viktor’s gaze flickered, his lips pressing into a thin line. He seemed to hesitate, his eyes darting briefly to the east, where the Flame Brotherhood’s lands lay. After a moment, he let out a quiet sigh and rubbed his hands together, as though considering his words carefully.

  “Well,” he said slowly, “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice in the matter, do I?” He gave a rueful chuckle, his eyes flicking back to Illuminus. “I pay protection money to the Flame Brotherhood. They come through now and then, buy honey and candles... they like the smell of wax, I suppose. Keeps them off my back.” There was a weight in his words as he avoided making direct eye contact, his gaze shifting to his beehives, the steady hum of bees filling the silence between them. “They leave me alone for the most part, as long as I keep the goods flowing. It’s... a delicate balance. Not much room for sentiment in a world like this.”

  Olaf set a cloth sack on the flat stone between him and Viktor, the quiet jingle of coins within catching the beekeeper’s attention.

  “Ten jars of honey,” Olaf said evenly, his sharp blue eyes fixed on Viktor. Viktor raised an eyebrow. Viktor shrugged and turned to his hives, his hands moving with practiced precision as he filled the jars. The golden liquid caught the light filtering through the crumbling walls, glowing faintly as it poured. The steady hum of bees filled the air, mingling with the faint, sweet scent of honey. Illuminus stood silently nearby, watching the process with quiet interest. His dark eyes followed the beekeeper’s movements, occasionally flicking to the hives where the bees worked tirelessly.

  “Good season,” Viktor remarked as he sealed the first jar and reached for the next. “Bees have been steady this year. Could’ve been worse.” Olaf didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the jars as they filled one by one. He adjusted the weight of his pack, the worn fabric of his jacket shifting slightly with the movement. When the tenth jar was filled and sealed, Viktor placed them carefully in Olaf’s sack. “That’s the lot,” he said, straightening up. Olaf handed over the coin pouch, and Viktor weighed it briefly in his palm before nodding. “Fair deal.”

  Olaf slung the sack over his shoulder without another word, the weight resting easily against his side.

  “We’ll be going,” he said simply, his tone signalling the end of their interaction. Viktor nodded, his expression unreadable. “Safe travels, Olaf. You and the boy.” Illuminus hesitated, glancing briefly at Viktor before turning to follow Olaf.

  The two walked away, their footsteps crunching softly on the cracked ground as they left the courtyard behind. The ruins of Jares stretched around them in silence, the once-grand city now a labyrinth of jagged stone and broken towers. As they reached the edge of the city, the open wasteland unfolded before them, a vast and desolate expanse under the fading light. Olaf adjusted the sack on his shoulder, his stride steady and purposeful. Illuminus fell into step beside him, his dark brown hair catching the soft glow of the setting sun.